


I'm a Foolish, Fragile Spine

by walkydeads



Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Climbing Class, Enemies to Lovers, Except Chris' Mom, F/M, Falling out, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Enemies, M/M, Parent Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkydeads/pseuds/walkydeads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the tumblr ask prompt: "we both got dragged to this party and my phone is on 3%, can i please use your charger?" but it deviated a little. The plot is more about Chris losing his mom and him and Josh drifting apart in the aftermath because Josh is also having a breakdown, and how a random encounter at a party might bring them back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a Foolish, Fragile Spine

As far as familial wealth goes, Emily’s parents are just a little less stacked than the Washingtons. So, when Josh’s parents are in a mood, or want the house or cabin to themselves, the kids go to Emily’s lake house, which is technically in a better spot for summer hangouts anyway.

Problem with Emily’s lake house is that a fight always breaks out. She gets catty with Hannah, she and Jess have some drama, Mike and Matt butt heads, something always inexplicably happens that leaves everyone in a bad mood. That, and her dad’s alcohol stash isn’t as good as what the Washingtons have.

Regardless, Josh’s parents are using the cabin to throw a party with some film contacts and remodeling their house, so Emily’s is where everyone ends up. Well, almost everyone. Hannah has a tennis match that Beth and Sam want to be there for, and Matt has a football game that Jess is cheering at, so their initial group is narrowed down. Emily is friends with a lot of the snooty art kids, the ones that act all tortured and deep and oppressed despite being upper middle class, so a bunch of them show up. And what would have ended up being a thrasher at Josh’s place is quickly devolves into people sitting around drinking red wine and talking about Stanley Kubrick.

Josh doesn’t really resent the art kids. He loves film, just like his dad. And he can’t hold passion for something against anyone. Their attitudes unnerve him, though. And the fact that one of them used to be his best friend just made things kind of awkward.

He and Chris had met in third grade, and their friendship had been instantaneous. It lasted all the way up to their freshman year of high school, when Chris’ mom suddenly got sick. As her health failed, Josh tried to be there for his friend, but was also juggling problems of his own. The last time they’d actually spoken was at her funeral, where Chris had invited him over and Josh said he would go, but got really overwhelmed by all the sadness and couldn’t bear to actually show up.

Chris had gotten really involved in photography after that. He fast tracked into the Fine Arts program at school, and Josh often saw his photos on exhibit in the school’s front gallery. There was an ethereal, soft quality to them, the color palette, the focus. It was unworldly, and not in a goth, personal suffering kind of way. They were almost calming.

Josh regretted failing Chris the way he did, and in his darker moments he would really beat himself up for it. He figured that there must be a reason Chris never approached him again after that day, and had partially convinced himself that his former best friend couldn’t deal with the stuff going on in his life AND Josh’s various mental illnesses.

But the blame he’d shoved at Chris when everything was fresh and heavy and painful for the death of their friendship had eased into a feeling of intense guilt and discomfort, and even that had eased into extreme awkwardness.

It wasn’t like Chris had been petty to him this whole time, either. There had been a couple occasions when they were in a class together or bumped into each other in the cafeteria or library and had to interact on some level, and Chris had always been civil. He’d just treated Josh like an unobtrusive stranger, and in some ways it felt worse than the silent treatment. But at least it - presumably - meant that Chris didn’t hate him.

Fortunately for Josh, Mike was just as ill-at-ease around the artsy kids, so they palled around for a little while. He knew he made Mike a little uncomfortable because Hannah’s crush on him had ended with more than a few tears on her part and Josh vowing more than a few times to fight him at her bequest. But without his sisters there, the atmosphere was a little lighter, and as Emily’s group of friends discussed pop art in the modern age and the many positive qualities of Korean horror cinema, Josh and Mike played a two-person game of beer pong, using Josh’s phone as a timer and to keep score.

The game got boring soon, and Emily called Mike over to do his boyfriendly duties and act all doting and adoring, and he shot Josh an apologetic look as he went over to join in on an intense conversation about the nature of Vincent van Gough’s depression. Josh just shrugged and gave him a look that said ‘better you than me’ before pouring the leftover beer into a single solo cup and deciding to take a lap around the house.

That in itself is boring, because everything in Emily’s house is so pristine and clearly for appearances that Josh doesn’t think he’ll be able to get into anything without getting yelled at for it later. Ashley, the only girl in their group besides Emily that opted to come over has been engrossed in a conversation with Chris for most of the night. Josh has pretended not to notice, but he honestly finds the vacant look on Chris’ face really amusing. They meet eyes across the room and Josh gives him a sympathetic smile.

Josh heads back into the kitchen after that, trying to find something good liquor hidden in the top cabinets, when surprisingly Chris joins him. “Hey man,” he says lightly, “Um, you have an iphone, right?”

“Yeah,” Josh says, still rifling through the cabinets.

“Well, do you happen to have a charger on you?” Chris asks, raising an eyebrow and shifting from one foot to the other, “I’m bored out of my mind and my phone’s about to die.”

Josh himself doesn’t have a charger, but he knows there’s a drawer in here just full of random chargers, so he finds it, pulls it open, and hands Chris the appropriate one, expecting him to turn on his heel and bolt back to the safety of the living room. He’s surprised when Chris just plugs it in beside the toaster and hops up to sit on the counter next to it.

“Is there any more beer?” He asks, and Josh just nods, pulling a Yuengling out of the fridge and passing it to him.

“Not a fan of wine?” Josh asks conversationally and Chris laughs, shaking his head.

Josh leans on the counter a fair few feet away from Chris still, and Chris says, conversationally “That stuff’s way too rich for my blood. I honestly can never tell the difference between wine and rotten grape juice.”

“Ha! Same here, man. I mean, I’m actually more all about liquor. Beer does the job in a pinch but if wine is all there is, I’d probably just stay sober for the night. You don’t want to go back in there, though? Seems like you and Ashley were having a pretty interesting talk,” Josh cocks an eyebrow and grins.

Chris attempts a smile that comes out closer to a grimace, “She’s very nice,” he concedes, “We have art together and she’s always asking for my perspective on her projects because I’m a… well, I take pictures sometimes, and it just gets a little… tiring? I’m not an expert. I just take pictures because it’s calming, I know next to nothing about pretty much every other artistic medium,” he laughs, “Well, I’m getting the hang of digital art, but mostly just within the realm of editing my photos, not creating new content and–”

He pauses, and when Josh looks up, Chris looks unaccountably embarrassed, “Sorry,” he says, softly, “I know you probably don’t care about any of that stuff.”

“No!” Josh corrects, quickly, “I do. I mean I don’t know anything about art, really. I just. Your photos are nice, I’ve seen them hanging up around school, and I like the look of them. I just can’t really contribute to any artistic discussions, hence my awkwardness,” he gestures to the kitchen, “I’m not normally the person hiding from everyone at parties.”

“Well,” Chris says after a moment, “For what it’s worth, I’m kind of glad you are. I don’t know how else I would have maneuvered out of the conversation I was having with Ashley about surrealism. Told her I had to catch up with an old friend.”

Josh blinks up at him, his gut freezing in fear. He knows for all of Chris’ casualness, he probably hates Josh for abandoning him when his mom died. And as much as he knows he deserves to be yelled at or cussed at or even fought over it, he really hopes now won’t be the time. “Chris,” he says in placation, but Chris interrupts before he can get further.

“It’s okay,” he says, moving down the counter, closer to where Chris was so he could speak more softly, “Just listen for a second, okay? Our pasts just had some really awful timing. When that stuff happened with my mom, you were falling apart too. I remember just before I found out my mom was sick, you had a breakdown and they found out they were grossly over-prescribing your meds. Didn’t think it was that big of a deal back then, but watching all the medications and treatments my mom went through, I know that wasn’t easy for you. I expected you to be there for me as a friend when she did die, and I did hold you bailing against you for a really long time, but I also… well, I understand. I don’t resent you.”

And the relief Josh feels at Chris’ words is so consuming and overwhelming that for a second he doesn’t know what to do, but then he slides closer and wraps his arms around Chris, tightly, practically making him bend double as he sits on the counter, and buries his face in Chris’ shoulder. For his part, Chris just goes with it, holding him back just as tightly, and it’s quiet for a few minutes until Josh realizes he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says, muffled by Chris’ shirt.

“I know,” Chris says quietly, “You couldn’t help that everything was happening at once any more than I could. It’s okay.”

“I missed you so much,” Josh sobs, softly.

“I missed you too,” Chris soothes, “Uh-oh. We’ve got incoming. Emily’s up and heading this way. What do you want to—”

He’s cut off as Josh suddenly hauls him into a kiss, kind of rough as their teeth clack, but they settle into it - Chris seemingly deciding to go along with it and rest one hand on the nape of Josh’s neck and the other on the small of Josh’s back - just in time for Emily to round the corner. Josh hears her pause with a sharp intake of breath, but then she just scoffs. “Okay... Don’t mind me, boys,” voice dripping with sarcasm as she reaches into the wine fridge for another bottle of Merlot, “Just grabbing some wine. Don’t get any gross sex fluids on the counters, or my dad will kill me, and I’ll come back for your asses.”

Chris gives her a thumbs up, and she rolls her eyes, uncorking the bottle before taking it back out into the livingroom. After a few more seconds, he and Josh part awkwardly, a thin string of saliva sticking between their lips. Chris reaches up and awkwardly wipes it away. “Wow,” he says, seemingly amused, “We really just did that, huh?”

“Sorry,” Josh says sheepishly as he takes a step back, even though he’s grinning, “I thought that us getting drunk and making out might be easier to explain than a tearful reunion or whatever it was we were actually doing. I mean, we’re okay now, right? So are we friends again, or…”

“That’s just as much up to you as it is to me,” Chris shrugs, “But um, as long as we’re being upfront here… Was that a fully ‘no homo, required based on extenuating circumstances’ kiss, or was it your first impulse because you’ve thought about it before? No judgement whatsoever, I’m just kinda curious because–”

“I thought about it,” Josh takes another step back, looking down at his feet as he continues, “I mean, the last time I let myself think about it was when we were fourteen, but then all that shit started happening to you and my brain started working against me again, and I… I don’t know? Convinced myself all that shit was happening to you because I was a shitty friend. Because what I felt for you was wrong or whatever. It was one of the reasons I stayed away. Which I know was incredibly stupid of me now, I know you wouldn’t have cared. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”

Chris slides off the counter then, taking a step towards him, “I do care, though. I mean, I. I liked you, too. I like you still. Never stopped. A part of me wanted to hate you for what happened, to cut you off, but whenever I saw you around school, even though I was hurt, I couldn’t help but be civil because I knew you were hurting, too. No matter how mad I was or how lonely I felt, I never wanted you to feel at fault. And you’re not, Josh. I thought about being with you a lot, even when we were kids. My mom asked me once in like fifth grade if I wanted to get married when I grew up, and I told her the only person I could see myself with was you. And she just laughed, you know?”

Josh reaches out again, and this time Chris folds himself into his arms. After a few minutes, he seems to have calmed down, and Josh rubs his back awkwardly, “I’m sorry, man.”

“Me too,” Chris sniffles, stepping back, “But look, if we’re gonna go forward, I have a rule in mind. After tonight, no more apologies for everything that happened before. We both feel bad, we both miscommunicated, we were both scared. And that’s okay. We just have to take it as a lesson and be more careful in the future, right?”

Josh nods.

They crash in one of Emily’s guest rooms that night, sleeping in each other’s arms for the first time in a long time. Chris was always a cuddler even in elementary school, and Josh had always pretended to mind a whole lot more than he actually did. Tonight, though, he just slips into Chris’ arms with a sigh, and they pass out, emotionally exhausted from the night they’ve had.

In the morning, Mike and Emily are making breakfast together, looking much cuter than they have any right to (although Josh is just convinced it’s because they think no one’s watching). When he and Chris pad down the stairs and into the kitchen, Mike coos about the happy couple and Emily elbows him in the ribs. The rest of the partiers took off sometime in the night, but Emily doesn’t mind having unannounced overnight guests. In fact, she seems kind of happy about this new development.

“Ashley totally cried last night after you guys went up stairs,” she gloats, “But I mean, she should have taken a hint! I tried to tell her ages ago that Chris was gay. Now Josh, you were kind of an unexpected wild card, but kudos for getting your shit together long enough to nab the future Steve Jobs.”

Mike just scoffs as he flips a pancake. “If you guys want orange juice,” he says awkwardly, “Em here has every variation under the sun. Orange with pulp, without, with extra. Orange banana, orange mango, orange pinapple…”

“What are you,” Emily quips, “The Bubba Gump of orange juice?”

While Chris launches into a gentle but informative explanation that Bubba was the name of the character and Bubba Gump the name of a restaraunt, Josh helps himself to some of the aforementioned orange juice and sits at the breakfast bar. Quietly - as he watches Mike roll his eyes at Chris and bump hips with Emily, who smiles in a way Josh has never seen before - he decides that maybe Emily’s lake house isn’t so bad after all.


End file.
